Hallowed be thy name
by Kristen Hiwatari
Summary: Trowa...Quatre...in prison? Trowa's in for a good reason, but what about Quatre? there is no escape...i suck at summeries...Oneshot slight 4x3 Character Death


Title: Hallowed be Thy Name.

Summery: Trowa, Quatre…in prison! There is no escape, no mercy. So what happens to them? TxQ…

Rating: I've rated it T cause of the language and mild themes…not that bad though…just to be safe.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam wing…it's a sad thing…

I slumped in a corner of the damp, dark cell. My entire body ached and my hair was matted with dried mud. Absent-mindedly I ran my fingers along the grazes on my wrists, left there by the rough ropes that had since been untied from their place.

"You're new, right?"

I raised my head to see a boy my age watching me. He was pressed up against the bars of his cell, which was positioned across from mine. He was thin, dressed in white, with a kind face and hair the color of sand.

I nodded slightly. "Yes."

"What's your name?"

I didn't know where he got all the energy to talk. It's been a day since I've eaten, and by how fragile he looks, I suspect it may have been even longer for him.

"Trowa," I replied.

"I'm Quatre. Nice to meet you."

I thought he seemed like a good person, not the sort that belonged in jail. He was a strange contrast to the brutal ways of the soldiers I'd been subjected to some hours ago.

"So... Why are you in here?" I asked him.

He thought for a moment, and then replied, "I'm not sure. I was trespassing, supposedly... I swear I wasn't. Either way, they said they'd let me go if I worked for them." He looked a mixture of sadness and confusion, and something else... He didn't meet my gaze.

"What about you?" he asked me after a moment of silence between us.

"Got caught stealing," I replied simply.

"Oh."

Silence once more. Then footsteps sounded along the hallway. I lifted my head, wary. Eventually, two guards stepped into view.

"There he is," one of them said.

They unlocked his cell and I saw Quatre's expression turn fearful. He tried to scramble away but the guards, being two tall, strong men, easily caught him. Once caught, Quatre let himself be dragged away meekly.

I watched them go without batting an eyelid. Inside, I felt some pity for the guy, but I barely knew him. His fate was none of my concern. His absence left me alone to my thoughts again.

The justice system had become increasingly more corrupt, as of late. Hundreds of people had been imprisonment or executed without trial. Some had barely done even done anything wrong. I can't say I was one of them - I had stolen numerous times, even if it was to survive. But others like Quatre... Surely the soldiers had no good reason to jail him.

Some hours later, the guards came back, towing the blonde boy behind them by his arms. Quatre looked far worse than he did before. He appeared shaken. In his eyes was the same expression that I'd seen from him earlier - the look of shame, if that's what it was. His hair was messed and his clothing crumpled. I watched as the guards roughly shoved him back into his cell, and locked the door behind him. He didn't speak or look at me.

"Hey," I called out to him.

When he didn't say anything, I commented, "You look like crap."

He still didn't reply.

"What's the matter?"

I waited a long time before he responded. "I don't want to talk about it."

He must have just gone through something pretty bad. At least he hadn't been executed, but he looked like he wished he had been. Respecting his wishes, I decided not to ask any further questions.

Night slowly settled upon us. I made myself as comfortable as I could on the cold cement floor and fell into an uneasy sleep.

I was awoken by sunlight streaming in from the little barred window of my cell, and by the sound of footsteps. It was those guards again. I figured they were in charge of our block. They had with them a rough-looking, middle-aged man, his hands cuffed and his legs chained. I watched as one guard unlocked Quatre's cell and dragged the boy off the floor and to his feet. He then opened the door to my cell and pushed Quatre in, locking it again behind him.

I watched the boy stumble and fall to his knees.

"Here, breakfast," the guard said and shoved two pieces of bread into our cell. "You there, make sure that kid eats." I realized that the instructions were directed at me.

"Yeah, and don't hurt him. We need him," the other guard told me.

The guards then locked the middle-aged man up in Quatre's old cell.

"Hey," I called out to the guards. "Why are you shoving him in here with me? There's barely room for one."

"We're running out of room in this place. This brute here was beating his inmates so he needs a cell to himself. You two are skinny mother-fuckers, you'll manage," came the reply.

I studied the middle-aged man in his cell. There was a spiteful and violent gleam in his eyes as he gazed back at me wordlessly. I guessed I should be thankful that at least he wasn't the one placed in my cell.

Quatre sat on ground, his knees clasped to his chest and his head buried in his arms. The two pieces of bread lay beside him, untouched. I walked to him, picked up the food and held out his share to him.

He looked up at me, shook his head and turned away.

"I'm not hungry."

I frowned.

"What's up with you?" I asked.

"Nothing."

"I know nothing when I see it, and this is not it," I pressed, feeling a slight annoyance at his secrecy.

He didn't reply. I studied him. He looked far weaker than he did when I first met him. Ugly purple bruises dotted his arms.

I tapped at his hand with the piece of bread. "You should eat. Keep your strength up."

To my surprise, he suddenly yelled "What the hell for? So they can keep raping me?" I heard him choke on his words.

My eyes narrowed.

"Who? Those guards?"

He said nothing. His small frame shook as he began to sob into his arms.

I sighed and crouched down beside him. Though I hated to admit it, I was beginning to worry for him. He was a speck of purity in this inhumane prison and I found myself hating the guards for hurting him. I realized that it must have been the reason he was kept here. He was thin and his face delicate, giving off a rather feminine appearance. The exact kind of boy depraved men would want.

"It's okay," I found myself saying. "I'll kill those bastards if they come near you again."

Hell knew what had gotten into me. I had barely known this boy a day and already I was swearing to protect him. Perhaps it was how vulnerable he looked, huddled there like that.

He sniffed and looked up at me, his eyes red from tears.

"Thanks," he said quietly. He didn't look like he believed me.

"How long has this been going on for?" I questioned.

"It started a fortnight ago," came the shaky reply. "They said they'd shoot me if I refused."

The look of shame was stronger than ever on his face. I wanted to further comfort him, but I didn't know how. So I knelt by his side helplessly.

Days passed. The guards hadn't come back for Quatre, but we both knew they would sooner or later. I was put to work in a factory in the prison. The work there was exhausting, but if anyone slacked, they were beaten; bloody by an officer. I never slacked enough to get a beating. I didn't want to show weakness in front of others no matter how much my muscles ached. I never attempted to escape either. One prisoner who did try was shot dead on the spot.

One night, in our cell, Quatre was telling me about his past. He told me about his siblings, and how he had been the birth that took his mother's life. I wondered at the guilt that must have placed on his shoulders.

I had no memory of my parents, and for that I was glad. I couldn't miss something I never knew.

It was the middle of night, and Quatre and I lay on the floor, huddled close against each other for warmth. Quatre had fallen asleep but my restless thoughts kept me awake. The small blonde boy was an image of peace as he slept, his face like an angel's.

I sat up with a start as I heard footsteps echoing down the hallway. I recognized the guards immediately as they came into view. I heard one say something, his speech slurred, and his companion laugh. They stopped by our cell and unlocked the door. I leapt to my feet.

"What do you want?" I growled threateningly. Quatre stirred and woke beside me.

"Oh, jus' tha' li'l blonde boy."

I stepped in front of Quatre. The two guards looked at me, then at each other, and began to laugh.

"What, ya want 'im for yerself, huh?"

"Get outta our way, unless ya wanna get hurt."

They came toward me. I stood my ground. I figured they'd be too drunk to pose any real threat to me.

Without warning, one guard lunged at me. I was caught off-guard by his weight and stumbled back, narrowly avoiding Quatre. My legs gave out from under me and the guard soon had me pinned me to the ground.

"How 'bout we take you instead?" he smirked at me.

I wrinkled my nose at the strong scent of alcohol on his breath. His words stirred up anger in me and I kicked up at him. He was sent sprawling over my head.

His companion stared, stunned for a moment. Then he rushed at me. I readied myself to fight, but suddenly there was a flash of white as Quatre threw himself at the guard. The man yelled and fell back.

I growled. The fool, why did he have to get involved? He was small and I doubted his fighting abilities.

Something struck me on the side of the head. It was the first guard. I staggered back, dazed for a moment. He came at me again and I managed to regain enough balance to deliver a punch to my attacker's stomach. He made a retching sound and fell to his knees. I kicked him hard in the head. He collapsed, temporarily put out of commission.

Looking around, I saw that the second guard had Quatre pinned against the wall. He was kissing him forcedly, his hands wandering roughly over the boy's body. In his lust he was completely oblivious to the fact that his companion had just been knocked unconscious. Quatre was struggling against the guard's hold but he was easily overpowered. Furious, I ran at the guard and swung at his jaw. There was a loud CRACK as my fist hit its target.

The drunken man gave a cry of pain and clutched his hands to his face. He stumbled back, away from Quatre. I grabbed Quatre by the wrist and ran for the unlocked cell door.

Quatre was having trouble keeping up with me, still shaken from his experience. Doubts plagued my mind about whether we'd make it out of here...

We reached the end of the hallway, burst through the double doors and sprinted into the courtyard. I franticly looked around for somewhere to hide.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of yelling and doors slamming. Chaos had broken out in the prison with the realization that we'd escaped. I began to think of what they would do to us if they caught us, and hastily pushed the thought out of my mind.

"Trowa," Quatre whispered between breaths. "I-I'm sorry."

"What are you saying?" I growled back. "We're gonna get out of here."

I held onto his hand tighter and made for the cement wall that surrounded the courtyard. I figured the shadow, which it cast, would be enough to hide us. Quatre's movements were becoming slower and heavier. I could tell that he was nearly spent. It wasn't surprising - since the last time he was raped, he had barely eaten at all, refusing any food that was given to him. It was as if he was trying to starve himself to death.

Just then, a gunshot split the night air. I felt a searing pain in my thigh like someone had driven a knife in and turned it. It gave out from under me.

"Trowa!" I heard Quatre yell.

"I'm okay," I choked out, knowing I was anything but. I felt warm blood against my skin. The pain was intense and I bit my lip, trying to stop myself from crying out.

Quatre wasted no time. I felt his arm slip around me and he pulled me up. He wrapped my arm around his shoulder and began to run. Pain shot through my leg with every movement. His breathing was heavy and his head hung with exhaustion. As he ran, I heard more gunshots and prayed that they would miss their target.

We made it into the shadows. Hugging the wall, he continued to sprint, past a gallows and to a small shed. He tried the door and found it unlocked. Stepping inside, we saw that it was some kind of storeroom, filled with soldier uniforms and various other items. There was a small window looking out to the courtyard, which let a little light into the room.

"They'll find us in here," I said.

"It's the only chance we've got," Quatre replied between breaths.

I knew he was right. With my injuries, I wouldn't be able to get any further, and he was obviously too drained to keep dragging me. He sat me down on the floor. I watched as he tore a piece of cloth from his sleeve and wrapped it around my thigh, tying it tightly. I winced at the pressure being put onto my wound.

"You get out of here," I ordered him.

He looked at me like I was crazy. "No! I'm sticking with you," he said stubbornly.

"God-Damnit, Quatre! If they find us here, they'll kill us both!"

He said nothing but refused to leave.

The pain in my thigh was near unbearable. I was beginning to feel dizzy, and my breaths came out in hisses as I gritted my teeth. Quatre looked at me with a concerned expression on his face. He then got up and began to rummage around the storeroom. A few moments later, he came and knelt down beside me again. He was holding something...a violin.

"Where did you-?" I began.

"On the floor. The bow is a bit broken but it will do," he told me. "Lucky find, huh?"

And with that, he began to play.

The music he made was the first scrap of beauty I'd experienced in days. It took my breath away. I watched his fingers tremble on the strings, a far away look in his eyes and a slight smile on his lips. As if he were elsewhere... Somewhere, far from the decay of this world.

When he finished his piece, I realized that I had barely breathed during his performance. As if a breath would break the fragile beauty of his music.

"Where did you learn to play like that?" I questioned. My voice sounded strangely strangled and weak.

He smiled at me. "I've been playing since I was five."

Then, through the little window, I saw shapes heading in our direction. They stepped swiftly across the courtyard, uniformed figures illuminated by lamplight.

"Get out of here!" I told Quatre in a harsh whisper.

He shook his head. "I'm not leaving you."

"Forget about me! Just go!"

He looked from me to the door and back.

"Quatre!" I hissed voice filled with desperation. "Please, get out of here while you still can!"

He said nothing. He seemed to be deep in thought. Then, to my surprise, he leaned forward and gently kissed me. I was startled, but found that I relished the warmth of his lips on mine.

I heard him whisper to me. "Trowa, thank you for what you've done for me."

His words sounded so final that I struggled to get up; to stop him from doing whatever it was that he was planning. Pain shot through my leg and I fell back again.

The footsteps were coming closer and closer, and the black shapes growing larger and larger.

"Quatre, save yourself!" I choked. "It's an order!"

He gazed at me in silence, a grave expression on his face. Then he raised his violin and swung it at me. I felt a jab pain in the back of my head, and my senses swiftly left me...

I dreamt. I dreamt of angels being slaughtered before me, their blood splattering and staining everything around me. I screamed and struggled, but my muscles were paralyzed and I could not awaken from the torment. At some point I was vaguely aware that I was lying on a cold, cement floor, and I heard voices speaking.

"Leave that one, he's already dead."

Then I slipped back into unconsciousness.

When I woke, I felt soft rays of morning sunlight warming my skin. I tried to pull myself to my feet and felt pain shoot through my leg. My head ached heavily.

What had happened?

Examining myself, I saw that the bandage around my leg had been untied. Thankfully, the bullet wound had stopped bleeding. There was a large patch of dry blood encrusted on the front of my shirt. Strange, I thought. I didn't remember having being injured there.

Looking about, I saw that the storeroom was empty. The violin lay on the ground; the wood split and caved in. Quatre was nowhere to be seen. I gazed out of the little window and saw a large group of people. They were gathered by the gallows. As I watched, two black shapes silhouetted against the sunrise stepped onto the wooden platform. With them was a small, thin, figure.

I tried to pull myself up, leaning on the wall for support. I stood and pain tore through me. I fell back down again.

I listened, and heard a deep voice speaking to the crowd.

"Last night, two prisoners attempted to escape. When we found them, one prisoner was already dead, shot in the chest and thigh. Let the execution of the surviving escapee be a warning to you all."

Emotion overwhelmed me. The pain in my body was a world away now. I crawled forward on three limbs, dragging my injured leg behind me, out of the storeroom and into the courtyard. My mind was spinning and my heart felt as if it would burst from my ribcage.

I pulled myself forward until I came to the crowd of prisoners. None of them paid any attention to me; so intent they were on watching the execution. I pushed my way through the sea of legs until I had a clear view of the gallows. Gazing up, I saw him. The kind-faced, blonde-haired boy, two guards at his side and a rope around his neck.

And I could only gape, helplessly, as the ladder was kicked out from under his feet.

"QUATRE!"

I didn't recognize my voice at all. It was so raw, so animal... Words escaped my lips against my will and control.

"Why did you do it! You don't deserve this! It should be me!"

He hung there, struggling against the weight of his entire body being held up by only his neck. His face was contorted with pain. Then, hearing my yells, his gaze fell upon me.

I watched as a small smile found it's way onto his lips. He gazed into my eyes and mouthed what looked like 'goodbye'. Then he let his kind eyes close. A look of contentment settled on his face and he ceased to struggle.

The sight made me break down again.

I collapsed on the ground, my hands clawing at the ground until my nails felt ready to split from my flesh. I silently screamed for them to shoot me here, so that I could join him in death. Surely, once they saw I was still alive, they would kill me too. But I waited for death and death would not come.

Silence hung in the air around me. Neither prisoner nor soldier spoke a word. They paid their respects, staring down at their feet, as if ashamed at the killing of a kind-faced boy of barely sixteen. Only the officer managed to retain an indifferent expression.

It should have been me... It should have been me. He did not deserve this. He'd selflessly given his life for me, spending his last moments of freedom knocking me out and smearing blood over me, so that I could escape execution by appearing already dead. And the soldiers had captured him.

Somehow, he looked completely at peace as he hung there. As if he'd finished his work in this world and had been prepared to leave.

Even in death, his face was that of an angel's.

I let the tears flow freely.

Iron Maiden - Hallowed be Thy Name

I'm waiting in my cold cell as the bell begins to chime

Reflecting on my past life and it doesn't have much time

'Cause at five o' clock, they take me to gallows pole

The sands of time for me are running low

When the priest comes to read me the last rites

I take a look through the bars at the last sights

Of a world that has gone very wrong for me

Can it be that there's some sort of error

Hard to stop the surmounting terror

Is it really the end, not some crazy dream?

Somebody please me that I'm dreaming

It's not easy to stop from screaming

But words escape me when I try to speak

Tears they flow, but why am I crying?

After all, I'm not afraid of dying

Don't I believe that there never is an end

As the guards march me out to the courtyard

Someone cries from a cell "God be with you!"

If there's a God then why has He let me go?

As I walk all my life drifts before me

Though the end is near, I'm not sorry

Catch my soul; it's willing to fly away

Mark my words believe my soul lives on

Don't worry now that I am gone

I've gone beyond to see the truth

So when you know that your time is close at hand

Maybe then you'll begin to understand

Life down here is just a strange illusion

Hallowed be Thy name...

End

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What's with me and killing people in my stories?


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